Chapter 505 The Smiling Tiger’s Cleanliness Obsession

Chapter 505: Chapter 505 The Smiling Tiger’s Cleanliness Obsession

Diana didn’t know Sebastian Ellington particularly well.

After all, whenever they met, she came to his house to spend time with his nephew. Sebastian usually sat nearby, drinking coffee, reading the news, and occasionally glancing over at the boy.

Apart from matters concerning Damian, they’d never discussed anything else.

Most of the time, they behaved as though the other person wasn’t even there.

Still, after more than two weeks of working in the Ellington household, Diana had formed a fairly clear impression of Sebastian’s personality.

On the surface, he was polite and well-mannered with everyone. When guests visited, he could even chat and laugh with them, appearing perfectly approachable.

But Diana suspected there was another side to him.

He struck her as the sort of man who was exceptionally difficult to get along with once you got past the polished exterior.

In her mind, he was the very definition of a smiling tiger.

Fortunately, she got along well with Damian, and Sebastian had never made unreasonable demands of her.

Diana had no complaints.

A client who didn’t talk your ear off or constantly interfere with your work? That was the kind of person she was happy to earn money from.

"Maria, please bring Miss Sinclair some tea," Sebastian instructed.

Maria approached with a warm smile.

"Miss Sinclair, we have herbal tea, white tea, and coffee. What would you prefer?"

Diana hadn’t slept particularly well the night before. She’d stayed up talking to Rose until three in the morning, and her brain still hadn’t quite caught up with the rest of her.

She gestured casually toward Sebastian’s cup.

"I’ll have whatever he’s having. It smells nice."

Sebastian glanced up at her.

Maria smiled and went to prepare the coffee.

By the time she returned with the cup, another servant was bringing Damian downstairs.

The six-year-old boy had delicate features and an almost doll-like appearance.

The moment he spotted Diana, his expression barely changed, but his eyes seemed to brighten ever so slightly.

Without saying a word, he released the servant’s hand and hurried toward her.

Unfortunately, Maria was walking past with the coffee at that exact moment.

The two collided.

Diana reacted instinctively, catching Damian and pulling him safely into her arms.

The coffee splashed across her shoulder and trickled down her arm.

"Oh, my goodness! I’m so sorry! Are you all right?"

Maria looked horrified.

Diana waved away her concern.

"I’m fine. Damian’s fine, too."

"Wipe it off."

Sebastian set down his iPad and held out a neatly folded handkerchief.

Diana glanced at the coffee staining her arm.

"Thanks."

She reached for the handkerchief, but in her haste, her fingers accidentally closed around Sebastian’s hand instead.

Only then did she look up.

Sebastian’s expression hadn’t changed. He remained perfectly composed and made no immediate effort to pull his hand away.

"Sorry!"

"It’s all right."

He offered a faint smile, withdrew his hand, and passed her the handkerchief.

Diana immediately lowered her head and began wiping the coffee from her arm.

"Damian, apologize to Miss Sinclair," Sebastian said, looking down at his nephew.

Damian was only six. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen, but he hadn’t spoken a word in two years. He pressed his little lips together, his gaze fixed somewhere ahead of him, and remained silent.

Diana didn’t mind.

"It’s okay. Big sister forgives you."

At the words big sister, Sebastian cast her a brief, thoughtful glance.

"My apologies," he said.

Then he turned and walked away.

Diana gently ruffled Damian’s hair before looking down at the stained handkerchief.

After a moment’s consideration, she decided to take it to the restroom and wash it. Leaving it dirty would have been impolite.

She had barely reached the doorway when she heard running water coming from the sink area.

Someone was already inside.

Sebastian.

He was washing his hands.

No, that wasn’t quite right.

He was scrubbing one hand with extraordinary thoroughness.

Head bowed, he carefully washed every inch of it—the very hand Diana had accidentally touched.

He was treating it as though she’d covered it in germs.

Diana stopped dead.

"......"

Did she look that filthy?

It had been an accident! Their hands had touched for barely a second.

Was that really enough to make him feel contaminated?

Perhaps her stare was too obvious, or perhaps she was simply standing there with such an incredulous expression that he couldn’t ignore her.

Whatever the reason, Sebastian noticed her in the mirror.

He didn’t appear the least bit embarrassed.

He simply reached for a paper towel and continued wiping his hand, taking his time as he worked over every inch of his skin.

"Miss Sinclair, please. Go ahead."

He gestured toward the restroom, inviting her to use it.

Diana looked from him to the hand he was still wiping.

Her jaw tightened.

Was he seriously treating her like some kind of walking biohazard?

She forced a polite smile onto her face.

"Mr. Ellington, I take it you won’t be needing that handkerchief anymore?"

Sebastian looked at her.

"I can see you have quite a serious case of germophobia. If you’re not going to use it, you might as well throw it away."

With that, she placed the handkerchief on the counter beside him.

She’d been planning to wash it for him, but she’d changed her mind.

Let him deal with it himself.

Sebastian studied her expression.

She was smiling, and her tone remained perfectly courteous. But it wasn’t difficult to recognize the pointed remark beneath her politeness.

She’d figured him out.

And she was offended.

Fair enough. Most people wouldn’t appreciate being treated as though the mere touch of their skin were something disgusting.

The corners of Sebastian’s lips lifted slightly.

"All right. I’ll take care of it."

Diana gave a brief nod and walked out.

The moment she was out of his sight, she began grumbling to herself.

Did she really look that unhygienic?

What kind of person had such an extreme obsession with cleanliness?

It had been an accidental touch, for heaven’s sake!

Did he have his staff disinfect every sofa she sat on and every object she touched whenever she came over?

If he did, why bother living in the real world at all?

He might as well lock himself inside a sterile chamber and never come out.

Sebastian, meanwhile, was perfectly aware that he’d offended her.

That was simply how he was.

He’d been spoiled by his family for most of his life and had become exceptionally particular about people, possessions, and his surroundings. His aversion to physical contact was genuine; he disliked being touched by others.

Most people picked up on his preferences quickly and accommodated them without comment, maintaining pleasant smiles as though nothing were amiss.

Diana, however, was the first person to make a pointed remark about it.

Sebastian glanced at the handkerchief she’d left behind.

Then he called one of the servants over.

"Please dispose of this."

He’d always done things his own way, and a little friction with Diana wasn’t going to change that.

After all, she was simply the professional he’d hired to film a documentary about Damian. Once the work was finished, they would go their separate ways.

This minor disagreement hardly mattered.

******

Diana didn’t dwell on the incident for long, either.

Being treated like a walking germ hadn’t exactly improved her opinion of Sebastian, but one of her greatest strengths was her thick skin. She could get over an unpleasant encounter almost as quickly as she’d gotten into one.

Besides, she had more important things to worry about.

Damian was a remarkably well-behaved child.

Autistic children could have a wide range of needs and experiences. Some struggled with sensory overload, emotional regulation, communication, or daily activities. Others had entirely different challenges.

Damian’s difficulties were primarily evident in his limited communication, withdrawal from others, and struggles with everyday self-care.

He rarely cried or threw tantrums. He didn’t lash out, either.

He simply kept to himself.

He paid little attention to the people around him and struggled with tasks other children his age might manage independently.

When Diana had first taken the job, Sebastian had explained the situation in detail.

Damian had seen numerous doctors and received various forms of support, but he still rarely interacted with other people. At times, he seemed so absorbed in his own world that he didn’t respond when someone spoke to him.

Sebastian was worried that his nephew would continue struggling to connect with others.

Diana, on the other hand, was a chatterbox.

The more someone ignored her, the more determined she became to keep talking.

Damian could remain silent all he wanted. She could still chatter away, keep him company, and get her work done.

And, as it happened, Diana had a rather unconventional approach to winning him over.

She liked teasing him.

"Look at what you did," she told him, pointing at the coffee stain on her clothes. "You came running over and got me covered in coffee. Didn’t I forgive you anyway?"

Damian stared at her without answering.

"But you can’t expect to get away with everything for free. You have to make it up to me."

She adjusted the camera equipment slung over her shoulder—the gear she used to earn her living—and regarded the little boy with exaggerated seriousness.

"Here’s the deal. Make me another cup of coffee, and I’ll officially stop being upset. Fair enough?"

Damian looked up at her.

His lips remained pressed into a thin line.

He didn’t move.

Diana narrowed her eyes.

"What? You don’t want to make it up to me?"

Damian said nothing.

"Not even a little?"

Still nothing.

Diana’s expression suddenly crumpled.

Her lower lip trembled, and within seconds, tears welled up in her eyes.

"So Dami really doesn’t like me?"

She sniffled dramatically.

"Did you spill the coffee on purpose because you wanted me to leave? I’m so hurt! Why doesn’t Dami like me? You won’t even make me a cup of coffee..."

Damian stared at the grown woman in front of him, who seemed capable of bursting into tears at the slightest provocation.

Until that moment, his expression had been almost completely blank.

Now, confusion flickered across his face.

Then his eyes shifted slightly, as though he didn’t know what to make of her.

Whether he’d genuinely been moved by her tears or was simply bewildered by her bizarre behavior was difficult to tell.

Without saying a word, he lowered his head and headed toward the kitchen.

Diana immediately stopped sniffling.

A delighted grin spread across her face as she hurried after him.

She’d done it!

Damian wasn’t particularly tall, and when he reached the kitchen, he stopped in front of the counter, looking thoroughly lost.

He had no idea what he was supposed to do next.

Diana planted one hand on her hip and pointed toward the coffee machine with the other.

"There! The coffee machine is right there. Come on, I’ll show you how to use it."

Damian’s little face grew tense.

He still wasn’t speaking, but he seemed to have accepted that there was no escaping the unreasonable woman who was now directing him around the kitchen.

He turned toward the machine and began examining it.

Diana watched him, fighting back laughter.

Look at that!

She’d managed to persuade a child who barely interacted with anyone to follow her into the kitchen and attempt something new.

She felt not the slightest twinge of guilt about her little performance.

After all, she wasn’t trying to hurt him. She was trying to get him to engage with the world around him, one small interaction at a time.

And if a little dramatic crying was what it took to get his attention, then so be it.

Unfortunately for Diana, she wasn’t alone.

Sebastian had just walked over.

And he happened to witness the entire scene.

From where he stood, it looked very much as though Miss Sinclair was bullying his nephew into making her coffee.